Caz lifted the cold crystal to her lips, offering her a sip, and the cool drink filled her mouth.

He said, “What was the pentagon—”

Petra’s embrace cut off the rest of his sentence, and the jolt caused the gold liquid to slosh toward the rim of the glass.

Ashley wiped the wet spill off her chin and backed up a step.

“I am so glad you came,” Petra said. “I knew you would.”

This close, Petra’s perfume filled the air. She must have spritzed on some more because the fragrance was like her trailer—eau d’ overwhelming. Ashley brushed at the end of her nose.

A new pop song came on, causing Petra to sway her perfect body in time with the beat, bumping into Caz.

He stepped away. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Well, I work so hard. So do you. Our roles are so important. I knew we’d need a break. Have you tried my passion Petra punch yet? The recipe was created specifically for me.”

Caz opened his mouth to reply but the beautiful Petra kept talking. “The recipe calls for vermouth, champagne, schnapps, oh, everything. The taste explosion will blow your mind.” Petra laughed. “I mean, literally blow your mind. You wore gray.” Petra crumpled the fabric of his shirt in her fingers. “Gray’s my favorite on you, and we totally match.” She ran a finger down the faint gray stripe in her blouse all the way to the hem then placed her hand on her small waist, pulling the shirt in even tighter.

Ashley took another slow step backwards. Their clothes didn’t match and Caz looked better in blue. If she’d ever wondered what the popular kids talked about, she now knew—themselves. As fascinating as the moment was for them, she preferred to leave. One more step and she could make a discreet turn. Fingers clasped her hand, stilling her.

What was Caz doing? She wasn’t on duty. He’d have to save himself from this one. Ashley was about to yank her hand away when she felt his thumb rub against the center of her palm. Her hand trembled in reaction and her fingers clenched around his.

“So after I left the set today,” Petra said, “I had so much to do, manicure, pedicure, hair. All day, so…”

Their hands were drawn, attracting attention from those nearby, from everyone but the oblivious Petra, who continued her monologue punctuated by less than subtle touches of Caz’s chest. Ashley pulled away again, but Caz’s fingers tightened, not releasing her.

Ashley whispered, “Let go.”

“Yes,” Caz said. “I told Boomer we’d be right over.”

Petra frowned and she noticed their linked hands for the first time. The silence was a blessed respite from her chatting. It didn’t last long.

Petra’s jaw dropped; then she recovered with a high laugh. “Yes, let’s see what Boomer’s up to.”

Boomer sat on the floor in the corner, a deck of cards, a pair of dice, and a stack of spoons beside his leg. “I’m trying to get a game going, but no one’s ready for the spoon-a-thon.”

They were in Hollywood, so they probably thought he was melting drugs on the spoons. Ashley knew he wasn’t a user, so she knelt down, folding her knees to the side to keep her skirt at a decent angle, and reached for the cards. “What are we playing?” The thin cards flipped against her fingertips as she shuffled.

“Spoons.”

Caz sat beside her. “Deal me in.”

Caz’s presence was enough to enlarge the group to ten. And the spoon-a-thon began.

Olive took a center seat. Unless the turn was her deal, she never paid attention to the cards. She hovered on her knees, eyes on the spoons, ready to grab one. Her strategy wasn’t bad for someone so short.

Petra was out after the first round. After four rounds, Ashley and Caz were both out and it was Cutter’s deal.

“Get out of here with me?” Caz asked in her ear.

“Okay.” Ashley put her drink on an end table and followed him across the thick carpet. She needed a lift home.

Exiting the front door, Ashley glanced through the darkness toward his Jaguar limo, the same one from the airport. He must have called the driver because the car wasn’t far from the entrance. They walked straight for it.

A couple of fans and paparazzi stood near, under a streetlight. One fan stripped off her I love CaspianT-shirt and swung the cotton overhead like a rally towel while screaming his name.

Another raised her head and howled at the moon. “He’s here.”

Ashley’s eyes widened at their enthusiasm. With a lowered head, she quickly opened the limo door and slid inside, melting into the leather seat.

Caz slammed the door on the fan girls. “Sorry we had to leave early. There were a lot of mobile cell phones out.”

“I saw some.” Ashley peeped out of the back tinted window. Flashes lit up the night, and his fans slapped the trunk of the limo.

“There’s only so much I want to be portrayed partying on YouTube.”

“It was just spoons.”

“The tabloids will doctor the photos.”

Ashley nodded. He was right. Whatever he did at that party would end up online, accessible forever. “Not cool.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not ready to go home. I had a drink. And my dad will be able to tell.” Not that he’d be home, but this would be the one time he made it in before her.

“We could hang out in my trailer.”

What a line. “And read more of your fan mail? No thanks.”

Caz reached a hand toward the door of the minibar. “Want to drive along the coast?”

“Yes.” Ashley bounced against the Jaguar’s gray seat. “Great view and neither of us has to drive.”

The coast lay outside the right window. The spectacular view sitting beside her captured her attention even more. She shifted against the leather cushion.

The driver’s voice came through the speaker. “I know a semi-private beach, if you guys want to get out for a bit.”

Caz looked at Ashley. When she nodded, he flipped the switch on the intercom. “Yeah, thanks.”

Not much later, the driver parked the limo at the edge of a sandy path; street lamps lit the trail with a circular glow every ten feet or so. “The pavement drops off about ten feet from the water.”

“Thanks.” She toed off her flats and Caz kicked off his topsiders. After rolling the hem of his pants, he took her hand and led her down the path.

Concrete brushed with sand turned to wooden planks. The sand shifted with each step, falling through the space between the planks. Then the walkway dropped away altogether and there was only loose and gritty sand under her feet until they reached the water’s edge. “The water is colder and clearer here than the Gulf of Mexico. But I still love Galveston.” Ashley tapped her foot against the packed wet sand, enjoying the sensation on the soles of her feet. “What’s an English beach like?”

“Colder than California and Texas. Cliffs. Different, but waves crash, and the salty fish smell’s the same.”

“So do you think you’ll do this forever?” Ashley waved in the air, so he’d know she meant the whole Hollywood thing.

“Can’t tell with this industry,” Caz said. “Popularity fades and careers end just like that.”

“Oh. No. You have one of those deep, rich voices. Actors with voices like yours have a long career if you want them. Plus, you’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thanks.” Caz’s voice sounded surprised. “You’re not usually so full of praise. Is it the champagne? If it was I can ask the driver to stop and purchase a case.”

Ashley laughed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t need my praise. You hear compliments all day from people who know what they’re talking about.” She looked out at distant lights on a ship. “You could do something else. Chuck all the fame and go to college?”

He kind of laughed in response.

“No really, why not? I mean, you’re great at the acting bit but you don’t seem to like the press part. They’re both important.”

“Since I was fourteen and my first indie film became a cult classic, no one has suggested I quit. Not once.”